If not for Gel’s birthday, I wouldn’t drag my fat ass to Boracay during the Labor day weekend.
This is a lie. I would’ve gone to Boracay even during the New Year’s to satisfy my beachlust. But if there’s anything I learned from this trip, it is that Boracay isn’t Boracay all-year round. At least not for me. Boracay in the summer is a battlefield.
If not for the sound of the sea almost out of earshot, drowned by the blaring RnB from events here and there, I would’ve easily mistaken it for divisoria. Not what I imagined my summer vacation to be. Although I’m sure that this is what most people go to Boracay for – events, people, party, sounds. I, on the other hand, imagine myself lying on a hammock drinking margarita in the afternoon, ears plugged with Camera Obscura and with a book in hand. THIS DID NOT HAPPEN. Instead, I found myself preying on cabana’s far too many times to actually enjoy and rest. As if it wasn’t hassle enough, I had to jostle my way into bars even during happy hour just to be face to face with beautiful people who are in no way human. I remember that during a routine phonecall from my dad, I sadly announced that Manila has probably dried out of beautiful people because they’re all playing frisbee and modeling their skinny legs and perfectly chiseled abs in the seashore. If I didn’t have Ken’s wrath to fear, I would’ve locked myself in the hotel away from the crowded shoreline. I swear on my right foot that a 5-minute walk from Astoria to Two Seasons elicits a string of curses from my insecure belly. And mind you, it wasn’t because Derek Ramsey, Victor Basa and Daniel Matsunaga are in the island, but because everyone’s just too damned gorgeous. The women are mural-material, seriously.
Even I didn’t think I could be this insecure. It’s frightening how shallow I can be. Of course it would be unfair to say that I didn’t enjoy the trip because of these. Spending a few days in Boracay with my favorite people made it less nerve-racking. Celebrating Gel and Jear’s birthday there also made it pretty epic. In the end, maybe its still money well wasted. But, never again will I go to Boracay during the summertime (although the latter parts of May are usually okay).
I realized that this ended up like a long rant of some sort (similar to Neal Cruz' ignorant remarks on the murals under the Edsa flyovers). I apologize for that. I was truly going for an update of how my trip to Boracay went.